


and all our fears would be irrelevant

by YaelaTheWordsmith



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, College AU, Courting Rituals, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Soft kissing, a heat is part of the story but i promise it ain't nsfw, but hey where's the fun in that, completely unnecessary drama that could have been solved if they'd just y'know asked each other out, kuroo gets bullied by his friends very lovingly, oh there's a bunch of cussing! because college boys lol, the ending is dramatic af but u know what i am OWNING it!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27509455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaelaTheWordsmith/pseuds/YaelaTheWordsmith
Summary: Courting: A traditional behaviour engaged in by alphas wherein they give gifts or do favours for the beta or omega of their choice in an attempt to signify their romantic interest in them. The alpha will usually begin the process with small gifts, and end with clothes, flowers or a gift specific to the potential partner's interests. Though common through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, it is now considered an outdated practice.Kuroo has a crush, and he decides courting is the best way to handle it. Daichi can't tell what the fuck he's trying to do. This does not go very well for either of them in any way whatsoever.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 25
Kudos: 193





	and all our fears would be irrelevant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nekoyuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoyuki/gifts).



> I'M BACK Y'ALL  
> oof neko commissioned this along with tell me your love will never fade and I took TWO WHOLE MONTHS TO WRITE IT BCUS COLLEGE AAAA NEKO THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR BEING SO SWEET AND PATIENT!!!!!!!!! this was a huge blast to write and my dramatic side was fully unleashed (when is it not though lbr) 
> 
> anyway before you enjoy these pining idiots, a brief note or two that I couldn't quite work into the story -  
> \- straight relationships are A/B, B/O or A/O  
> \- I know they should have had summer holidays in august pls ignore that ksdjfkds  
> \- it’s considered polite to wear at least two scent patches in public at all times so you don't inconvenience others who might find your scent too strong or might get affected by it, but it’s not necessarily like that outside Japan, it's kinda a cultural thing
> 
> song title from if the world was ending by jp saxe, and Toa thank you so so much for betaing for me, you're the absolute best <3  
> my goal was to make people laugh out loud at this, or at least chuckle quietly to themselves, so if it worked please do let me know :3  
> -

_July 25th_

It’s a Friday night, and Koutarou is bright-eyed and laughing, lying on the floor with his legs kicked up onto Tetsurou’s bed. Tooru is grinning at how silly he is, sitting curled up against the wall with Tetsurou’s pillow in his lap, and Tetsurou is lying next to Koutarou and staring at the ceiling as he contemplates, with bleak resignation, how your best friends can put you through the most exquisite torture.

“You have to _guess_ , Tooru,” Koutarou says, gesturing a little too wildly with his bottle, almost wiggling with delight at the puzzle he’s presented Tooru with. Beer splashes onto the floor, soaking Tetsurou’s sleeve.

“I’ve guessed everyone, Kou-chan, there’s no one else!”

“There is, you haven’t said it yet! Come on, just one more try.”

“Okay, so it’s not Yaku -”

“Ew,” Tetsuou says, deadpan, and Tooru kicks his side.

“Shut up, Tettsun, you’re not part of this. It’s not Yaku -”

“He’s at a different college, anyway,” Koutarou says, and Tooru kicks him too, significantly more gently.

“I know that, and also you said that twice before, and you do want me to keep guessing, right?”

“Sorry,” Koutarou says, his stupid big sparkly eyes not losing one iota of their bigness or sparkliness. “Keep going, keep going.”

“And it’s not that snarky kid, that blond one, or his cute best friend, and it’s not Semi - though who wouldn’t crush on Semi, god - and it’s not Futakuchi -”

“Ew,” Tetsurou says louder, and Tooru kicks him again.

“And it’s not Ushijima -”

“Though who wouldn’t crush on Ushijima?” Koutarou says, and Tooru snorts.

“Anyone with half a brain, Kou-chan. You’d have to swim through a sea of desperate fans before you even got close to him, anyway.”

“One might say the same about you, Tooru,” Tetsruou says, managing a suitably mocking tone, and Koutarou snorts a laugh into his beer.

“Shut up, Tettsun, it’s your last warning. Where was I? Oh yeah, not Ushijima, and not Aran -”

“Aran’s an alpha, I still don't know why you said -”

“We accept all orientations in this house, and anyway Tettsun never said he was straight.”

“I’m straight,” Tetsurou says to the ceiling, raising a hand like he’s in class. “If that’s, you know. Relevant to this discussion about my life.”

“It’s not. Anyway, the only person with more fans than Ushijima is Aran - hell, _I’d_ hook up with Aran.”

“Yeah, honestly same,” Koutarou says, setting his bottle down and sitting up. “Who were the last two people you guessed? I don’t remember.”

“Because you’re tipsy as fuck, sweetie,” Tooru laughs, leaning down to pat his head. “I said Sugawara, and then I said Makki, and now I’m out of guesses.”

“Sugawara was kinda close!”

“Was it?” Tooru purses his mouth. “The only other person I can think of is Azumane, and that better not be the right answer, because I’ve had my eye on that handsome boy for weeks now.”

“Wait, what?” Tetsurou raises himself onto his elbows, ignoring the way it makes his head spin. “You have a crush on Azumane?”

“Yeah, I happen to have this thing called taste, Tettsun.”

“You do like ‘em on the bigger side,” Koutarou says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You would know,” Tooru grins, sweet and flirty, winking at Koutarou.

“Y’all can get out of my room if you’re gonna start making out,” Tetsurou says over Koutarou’s laugh.

“That ship has sailed,” Tooru says, reclining back against the wall like a gracefully exhausted queen. “Kou-chan was unable to appreciate the sheer depth of my affection for him, the sacrifices I made for him, the bullets I shielded him from - “

Koutarou has tears in his eyes now, laughter slipping past the hand he has over his mouth in a vain effort to be quiet. “You just wanted me for my ass, you dirty, dirty liar,” he grins through his fingers, breathless. “The only bullet you shielded me from was that dumbass alpha on the street who wouldn’t take no for an answer when we went to Harajuku.”

“Yeah, that was like two months after we started hooking up, right? I don’t know what she was thinking, our scents were all over each other.”

“Oh yeah, wasn’t that the day I walked in on you two in the locker room?” Tetsurou says, and his reward is a swift kick from both of them this time, one on either side.

“The _point_ ,” Tooru sniffs as he curls into a ball and wheezes, “is that that idiot blacked my eye and coach made me sit out of practice for like two days because our teammates’ idea of top notch humour was serving every single ball at my face. Don’t say I never did anything for you, Kou-chan.”

“Yeah, you were pretty cool that day,” Koutarou agrees, putting his chin on Tooru’s knee and smiling up at him. Tooru pats his head again, smiling back as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand,” he says. “Yes, I have a crush on Azumane, so it better not be him.”

“It’s not himmmm.” Koutarou whines. “You’ve literally said everyone except this guy! You’ve said his best friends, too!”

“ _Kou_ ,” Tetsurou groans, but it’s too late, he can see the gears spinning in Tooru’s head.

“Wait, wait, wait - is it _Sawamura_?” Tooru says with unholy delight. “Captain of the pretty omega trifecta?”

“Yes!” Koutarou yells, way too loudly for half past one in the night when anyone could hear and realise that he’s supposed to be two buildings over in Omega Dorm 2. “Fucking finally!”

Tetsurou groans and rolls over onto his stomach, hiding his face in the floor, but Tooru is relentless.

“You chose beefy arms, dad friend Sawamura over sugar-and-spice Sugawara and the work of art that is Azumane Asahi? Holy shit, Tettsun, this is fucking unbelievable -”

“Fuck you,” Tetsurou snaps, lifting his head briefly to glare over his shoulder. “He’s fucking cute, okay?”

“Yeah, of course he’s cute, that’s not the goddamn point! The point is you fell for the _one_ guy who doesn’t fall for your stupid sexy smirk and the infinite stream of charming bullshit you pull out of your ass, the one guy who has never once been impressed by you, the one guy who always gives it back to you as good as he gets. This is such gold, holy _shit_ \- this is either going to go up in flames or you’re going to be the sappiest couple on campus, oh my god, I wasn’t even this excited when Kou-chan said he’d hook up with me -”

Tetsurou buries his face in his arms again, and Koutarou laughs. “Take it easy on him, Tooru.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tooru says. Tetsurou can hear him grinning, wide and delighted. “I support this, I swear I support this.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tetusoru mumbles into the floor. The despondency is probably mostly the alcohol’s fault, but he doesn't really have the energy to be particularly rational about the whole thing right now. “You just said it, he’s never been impressed by me, what’s the point of even trying?”

“Don’t say that, hey -” Koutarou tugs at his shoulder, getting him to roll over, and his forehead is lightly furrowed with concern. “You guys would be really great together, don’t listen to Tooru. Sawamura has fun with you when you hang out, right?”

“I don’t know,” Tetsurou sighs, letting Koutarou pull him up. “We don’t really hang out all that much, outside of practice . . . I think I mostly just annoy him. I feel like an idiot around him, honestly.”

“You are an idiot around him,” Tooru snorts, but he gets off the bed and sits on the floor next to Tetsurou, nudging his knee gently with his own. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, though.”

“Very encouraging.” Tetsurou gives Tooru a flat look, and Koutarou squeezes his arm tight.

“Hey, come on, you’re always the man with the plan, yeah? You’ve definitely figured out how to ask him out already, I know you have.”

“Court him,” Tetsurou says with a shrug. “That’s my big plan so far.”

Tooru and Koutarou exchange a look. “Not to be the downer here,” Tooru says carefully, “but you do know this is the twenty-first century, right?”

“Okay, one, there’s a proven biological basis to courting, okay? It’s like mating displays with birds, there’s this nucleus in omega brains which lights up when they’re presented with gifts by a suitor they favour, it’s completely absent in alpha brains and much less elaborate in beta brains, there was a study done in -”

“Point two, please,” Tooru says loudly.

“Point _two_ ,” Tetsurou says, glaring at him, “is that he’s smart and honest and handsome and he never backs down from a challenge and he’s the kindest goddamn person I’ve ever met and I think he’s kind of incredible, which is why I actually really fucking like him and don’t want to mess this up. Point three is that courting is a socially acceptable, if outdated way for me to gauge whether Sawamura Daichi feels anything for me beyond the bare minimum of polite tolerance before I ask him out and run the risk of him turning me down and breaking my fucking heart.”

Koutarou squeezes his arm again, and Tooru stares at him in dead silence for about five seconds before he says, “Okay, then.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’m convinced. Court his ass off, Tettsun.” Tooru smiles one of his real smiles, warm and soft with affection. “And he won’t turn you down.”

“And you know that because?”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? He’s a smart guy. No way he’d do a stupid thing like that.”

“Yep, you’re a catch!” Koutarou chimes in cheerfully. “There’s no way you’ll fail!”

“Idiots,” Tetsurou says, grinning at them both reluctantly. “Thanks, guys.”

“Thank us when those arms are yours,” Tooru smirks, and Koutarou blows him a kiss, and Tetsurou briefly considers the idea that the whole ‘healing power of friendship’ is not, in fact, a stupid anime trope that definitely doesn’t exist in real life.

Man, alcohol really does a number on him.

***

_August 6th_

“Fuck, I forgot a pencil,” Daichi whispers, searching through his backpack with increasing desperation.

“How can you forget a pencil for a statistics test?” Suga hisses back.

“I don’t know, I just did! Do you think she’ll let me go and get one?”

“Like hell she’ll - “

“Hey, Sawamura.”

Daichi looks around to see Kuroo leaning forward in his chair, holding out a sharpened pencil.

“Here,” he says under his breath, the corner of his mouth quirked up just a little.

“Oh - shit, thanks,” Daichi whispers back, the knot in his chest loosening all at once. “I owe you one.”

“Nah, don't worry about it. You got an eraser?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Good luck, then.” Kuroo sits back, nodding warningly to the front of the class. Daichi turns back around, hoping the teacher didn’t see them, and catches Suga’s raised eyebrow. He shrugs in response. holding up the pencil like it’s some kind of evidence.

“Sawamura-kun, do you have a question you’d like to ask?”

“Ah, no!” Suga is stifling a laugh, the bastard. “Sorry!”

He goes to give it back to Kuroo later, after the exhausting exam is over, but Kuroo waves him off.

“It’s just a pencil,” he says, smiling as he shoulders his backpack. “Keep it.”

“What’s up with him?” Suga mutters at Daichi's elbow.

“I . . .” Daichi watches him leave, half curious, a little grateful, and mostly perplexed. “I don’t know, honestly.”

***

_August 13th_

“Almost done?”

“Mm, almost.” Tetsurou sighs softly, trying to focus as he scrolls through his assignment. “You?”

“Yep, just submitted.” Aran closes his laptop and stretches his arms out, yawning.

“Golden boy,” Tetsurou says, shooting him a teasing glance over the top of his glasses. He grins, easy and handsome, lacing his hands behind his head as he leans back in his chair.

“You fuckin’ bet. You still tryin’ to match my GPA, Kuroo-kun?”

Tetsurou flicks his phone open, holding it up to his mouth. “Say that again, I gotta record it so your adoring fans know what an asshole you really are -”

Aran pushes his hand away, chuckling. “You know I’m just teasin’,” he says. “And quiet, people are studyin’ here. Need the list of references?”

“Nah, I got it. Just gimme a minute.”

“Sure, take your time. My notes are right there, if ya want.”

“Mmhm.”

Tetsurou only needs twenty words more to reach the word limit - that’s barely even a sentence, it shouldn’t take him more than thirty seconds to find some filler phrase to round it off and get it over with - but his head keeps going blank, and the reason for that is sitting two tables over, opposite Akaashi and the freckled kid, Tsukki’s best friend - Yamaguchi, that’s his name. They’ve got papers everywhere, and Sawamura has been explaining some concept to them for the past twenty minutes, unwaveringly patient and encouraging, because when is he ever anything else?

 _Snap out of it_. Tetsurou shakes his head, quick and hard. _Just get this over with, come on._

But Yamaguchi chooses that moment to laugh quietly, a quick snort before he covers his mouth and looks around the study room, wide-eyed, and then Akaashi is muffling his chuckles in his elbow, and Tetsurou really shouldn't be peeking out of the corner of his eye like he is, but Sawamura is laughing at the two of them and god, who allowed him to look so -

“Kuroo?” Aran’s head is tilted slightly across from him, his eyes curious and far too perceptive.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Tetsurou hastily drags his gaze back to his laptop screen. “I’m almost done.”

Aran doesn’t say anything, just watches as he types out whatever he can think of. He misspells ‘conclusion’ thrice, which, wow, how is that even possible?

“We’re saying that the paper is bullshit, right?” he mutters.

“That’s what we spent an hour and a half deciding to write, yes.”

“Yeah, I forgot. I mean - ugh. Nothing. Sorry. My head is just weird.”

“No shit, really?”

That gets him to crack a grin. Aran smiles back, gesturing to his laptop.

“Gimme,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not like I can’t -”

“Hand it over, Kuroo.”

So he sighs, hands it over and rests his head on his arms, staring at the wall behind Aran as he tries to listen to the conversation from Sawamura’s table.

“ - for your help, Sawamura-san,” Akaashi is saying. “I very much appreciate you taking the time out for this.”

“Yeah, it makes so much more sense now!” Yamaguchi, soft-voiced and enthusiastic. “Thank you so much, Sawamura-san.”

“Come on, it’s not a big deal,” Sawamura says, and Tetsurou can _hear_ the self-deprecating smile in his voice. “I’m glad I could help. Do you want the textbook? I think I still have the PDF from my second year. It’s a little advanced, but I’m sure you guys won’t have a problem with it.”

“Your confidence in us is flattering, Sawamura-san.”

“My confidence in you is entirely justified. Either of you have a pen drive?”

“Ah, I don’t think I do . . .”

“Yamaguchi?”

“I might, let me check - um -”

Aran catches Tetsurou’s gaze, and he’s clearly trying not to smile. “You always carry a pen drive, don’t you?” he says.

Tetsurou hesitates for a full second before he reaches for his backpack with an exasperated huff. “What are you, a mind reader? And isn’t it gonna be weird that I was eavesdropping?”

“Do you want to give it to him or not?”

“God,” Tetsurou groans, before hitching what is hopefully a completely normal smile onto his face and leaning across the aisle. “Sawamura, hey.”

“Kuroo.” Sawamura looks surprised, like he hadn’t even noticed him, which definitely doesn’t do anything for Tetsurou’s confidence.

“You guys needed a pen drive?” He flashes a quick smile at Akaashi and Yamaguchi before turning back to Sawamura. “Sorry, I kind of overheard . . .”

“Shit, were we that loud?” Yamaguchi says, wincing. “We’re really sorry, Kuroo-san, I hope we didn’t disturb you -”

“Chill, kid, you didn’t.” Tetsurou gestures with the pen drive. “Just thought I’d offer.”

Sawamura takes it from him, an expression Tetsurou can’t quite read in his eyes. Puzzlement? Amusement? Some combination of the two?

“Thanks,” he says. “This’ll just take five minutes.”

“Sure, take your time. I wasn’t using it.”

He sits back in his chair, and Aran grins at him. “Now was that so hard?”

“Fuck you,” Kuroo mutters, but he can’t help smiling. “That was weird, right?”

“Well, Akaashi-kun was lookin’ at ya like you’d grown an extra head -”

“That’s just ‘cuz Akaashi knows me too well for comfort. I meant was it weird, like -”

“With Sawamura?”

“No, with Yamaguchi. _Yes_ , with Sawamura, god - stop laughing!”

“You’re really gone on him, huh?”

“ . . . Who told you, Kou or Tooru?”

“You did.” Aran smiles, softer now. “I know you, Kuroo, and it ain’t hard to see.”

“Shit. Well.” Tetsurou looks down at his notes, heat creeping into his cheeks. “That’s - that’s the plan. Sawamura, uh, seeing it. Eventually, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Well, it was maybe a little weird -”

“ _Shit_ -”

“Just a little! He was just caught off guard, I guess, but it’s fine. You gotta start with a bit of a risk to win him over, yeah?”

Tetsurou laughs, and he doesn’t know if it’s out of frustration or uncertainty or what. “Yeah,” he sighs, offering Aran a half-smile. “I’m just hoping it works.”

***

_August 19th_

Daichi stretches his legs out in front of him with a barely stifled groan. He’s absolutely going to be sore tomorrow, god, his legs are killing him. Everyone else is already halfway through their stretches, but his partner, Iwaizumi, is by the benches, caught in a three-way conversation - argument? - with Oikawa and Matsukawa. They’re definitely riling him up, judging from the way Iwaizumi is scowling at the other two, who’re grinning like they’re having the time of their lives.

Daichi sighs to himself, wondering if he should call out to Iwaizumi, but that would probably just bring all of them over, and he really doesn’t have the energy to deal with that . . .

“Hey.” A pair of shoes squeak to a stop close by, and he looks around and up into Kuroo’s face. “Need help?”

“Oh - yeah, Iwaizumi was gonna -”

“I can do it if you want.” He’s already slinging his towel around his neck, already bending to settle his hands on Daichi’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” Daichi says, a little nonplussed, reaching towards his right foot as Kuroo pushes him down steadily. “The A team is done already?”

“Yeah, Kou was feeling a bit off-colour today, and he ended up sulking when Coach subbed him out for Ushijima.”

“Don’t they usually play on the same side together?”

“Usually, yeah, we were trying something new today. How was practice for you?”

Daichi sits back up and reaches for the other foot, wondering what’s going on. It’s really not like Kuroo to not have said something snarky by now, but hey, if he’s trying for actual normal small talk for once . . .

“It was good, Coach ran us hard but we managed to get some new moves working. Watari still isn’t as good as Noya, but he’s really shaping up.”

“He got that jump toss down yet?”

“Yeah, he’s got it down beautifully.”

“I guess the A team better watch out, huh?”

“Always,” Daichi says, twisting to grin over his shoulder. “Tsukishima’s a strong contender for your spot too, you know, Futakuchi isn't the only one.”

“Ah, Mattsun’ll go down before me.” Kuroo is smiling, small and a little sharp-edged, something approaching his normal smirk. “He’s too soft with his kouhai.”

“And you’re not? The guy who grabbed Tsukishima by the scruff of the neck to give him all kinds of tips two days after he joined the team?”

Daichi catches the barest hint of red in Kuroo’s cheeks before he pushes him back down. “The kid needed it.”

“That’s a nice way to avoid the question.”

“Hey, do you want my help or not?”

Daichi chuckles, his hamstrings burning dully as he reaches for his foot one last time. Kuroo’s palms are warm on his shoulders, his fingertips pressing into muscle gently. _He’d be good at giving massages,_ Daichi thinks, and then, _What the hell? What am I doing?_

“You good?” Kuroo says after a minute or two, letting him sit back up. “I think Iwaizumi is coming back over -”

“Yep, yeah, he’ll do the rest. Thanks, Kuroo.”

One hand lingers for a second, squeezing briefly before it moves away. “No problem,” Kuroo says. “See you around, Sawamura.”

“Yeah, see you,” Daichi echoes. He doesn’t watch him go, not this time - but he can’t quite ignore the tingle dancing up his spine, can’t quite stop himself from reaching up to a hand over where Kuroo had touched him, a partly pathetic and entirely guilty attempt to make the warmth linger.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

***

_August 27th_

“Since when do you work here?”

Tetsurou looks up from his phone screen to see Sawamura standing on the other side of his desk, one eyebrow raised.

“Hey, Sawamura! Uh, since a week ago?”

“How come?”

“It’s an easy job, I happen to like the library in general, and the money is a nice bonus, so.” Tetsurou switches his phone off, tucking it into his pocket. “Did you need help with something?”

Sawamura has a hand on his hip, eyes still narrowed at Tetsurou like he thinks he’s planning to abuse his student librarian powers or something. “Yeah, I can’t find a reference book, Deconstructing Ethnocentrism. Know where it is?”

Tetsurou whistles as he gets to his feet, grinning at Sawamura. “Kinda heavy reading, even for an econ major. The professor giving you extra credit or something?”

“No, it’s just interesting,” Sawamura says dryly, following him deeper into the library. “Do you know where it is or not?”

“What kind of library assistant would I be if I didn’t?”

Sawamura makes a _hmph_ sound in reply.

“I mean, I know you think I’m this dumb jock who’s good for nothing except looking great on the volleyball court,” Tetsurou continues, because mouthing off when he’s basically guaranteed to piss Sawamura off is apparently a personality trait of his, “but I do have a couple of brain cells in my head somewhere.”

“I’d never have guessed,” Sawamura retorts. “Which idiot told you you looked good on the volleyball court and did irreparable damage to your ego?”

Tetsurou has to bite his lip to stop the smile. “A very reliable source.”

“You know your own reflection in the mirror doesn’t count as a reliable source, right?”

That gets a snorting laugh out of him, loud enough that a couple of students look over at them. “And they say I’ve got a sharp tongue,” Tetsurou says, waving an apologetic hand at them and grinning down at Sawamura. “Nice one.”

Sawamura blinks. “Thanks? I think?”

“You’re very welcome.” They turn into the economics section, and Tetsurou starts to scan the shelves for _Ethnocentrism_. “You really have time to do extra reading? I’m barely keeping up with what we’ve already been assigned for History of Economic Thought.”

“That’s because you’re doing your own courses, auditing a philosophy course and one of the heaviest econ courses, plus keeping in good enough shape to stay on the A team, plus apparently working a library job. I honestly don’t know how you get a decent night’s sleep.”

“Who says I do?” Tetsurou grins, pulling a book out to check the title.

A _hmph_ again _,_ softer than before. “If you don’t, you should.”

“Aw, you worried about me?”

“I would be if you didn’t have Oikawa and Matsukawa and all the rest of them to keep you on track. You seem to be handling yourself fine, anyway.”

“Wow, really?” Tetsurou pauses to look at him. “You’d actually care? Damn, Sawamura Daichi has decided that I’m not a complete waste of space, my existence has been validated -”

“I take back everything I just said,” Sawamura says loudly. “Please note that it has been permanently and irreversibly removed from the record.”

“Shh, Sawamura-kun, this is a library.” Tetsurou gives him a mock frown. “People are trying to focus.”

Sawamura looks at Tetsurou like the only thing preventing him from punching him in the face is his struggle to stifle the urge to laugh. “Give me the goddamn book already, Kuroo,” he says, his mouth settling into this cute, reluctant half-curve.

“I got you, I got you.” He reaches up to pull it off the shelf. “No wonder you couldn’t find it, it was completely above your line of sight.”

That earns him a smack to the arm he’s just a shade too slow to avoid. “Thank you so much, Kuroo-kun,” Sawamura says, smiling sweetly, tucking the book under his arm. “I’ll be sure to ask for your help again the next time I need the help of a sentient beanpole.”

Tetsurou tries to stifle the laugh as they leave the aisle, he really does, but it still manages to escape his elbow. “You’re never this mean to anyone else,” he grins, bumping Sawamura lightly with his hip. “Does that make me special?”

“It makes you a fucking dumbass who gets on my last nerve.”

"Which means special, basically.”

“Oh my god, Kuroo -”

“Admit it, you have a soft spot for me, I know you do.”

“I do _not_ ,” Sawamura says firmly, but he’s smiling reluctantly again. “Do your job and check this out for me.”

“You could just use one of the kiosks -”

“You should be doing something to earn your pay, right?”

“Getting the book for you wasn’t enough?”

“Nope. Here.”

So Tetsurou takes it, checking it out when they’re back at his desk. “There,” he says, handing back the book and Sawamura’s ID card. “Two weeks.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sawamura puts the book inside his backpack and zips it up. “See you at practice, Kuroo.”

“Hey, Sawamura -”

“Yeah?”

Tetsurou puts his chin in one hand, trying to ignore how his pulse has suddenly decided to kick into a higher gear. “Would you mind going through some of the econ readings with me? Not all of them, just the hardest ones. It won’t interfere with your tuition sessions with Akaashi or whoever, I promise.”

There’s a split second of hesitation in Sawamura’s dark eyes, almost like - like the question made him nervous? But he says, “Sure,” smiling a little, and he says it so easily Tetsurou wonders if he’d just imagined it. “Text me and we can set up a time. Makki would probably want to join us, too.”

“Sure,” Tetsurou echoes, forcing his expression to stay neutral even as his heart drops sadly to approximately two ribs past where it should be. “Thanks, Sawamura.”

***

_September 2nd_

Lightning crackles in the sky overhead, bright and blinding and leaving glowing lines stamped across Daichi’s vision, and the thunder is loud enough that he has a hand over one ear to try to muffle it. Rain isn’t just falling, it’s sheeting down thickly enough that the entire stretch of lawn between the dorms and the academic buildings is invisible after a bare two metres. The hall is full of the chatter and laughter of students as they hug their backpacks to their chest and huddle under shared umbrellas, shoving each other playfully to make more room before making a dash for warmth. And Daichi is standing just inside the main doors, the wind howling with mournful mockery outside, with no umbrella and a fairly expensive laptop inside a backpack that’ll get soaked through in minutes - not to mention his precious notes.

He sighs, checking his phone for the hundredth time, but Asahi still hasn’t called back. Looks like he’ll have to wait for a while longer -

“Hey!” Kuroo is suddenly next to him, Oikawa Tooru by his side. He has his jacket zipped up to his throat, his eyes bright under his messy fringe as he unfolds a blue umbrella with a soft snap. “No umbrella?”

“Nope,” Daichi half-sighs, giving them both a quick smile and a nod. “Asahi’s going to bring me one, so I’m waiting for him.”

“Azumane is going to walk all the way from the omega dorms to here with an umbrella for you?”

“I mean, yeah, what else -”

But Kuroo is already holding out his umbrella. “Tooru’s got another one, you can have this.”

Daichi takes it out of reflex, giving Oikawa’s (smaller) umbrella a startled look. “Wait, but - both of you aren’t going to fit under -”

“The alpha dorms are closer, it’s fine!” Kuroo pushes a laughing Oikawa out the door, giving Daichi a broad grin and a two-fingered salute before they sprint out together, yelling like kids.

Daichi watches them go, their umbrella angled like a shield against the downpour and their backpacks clutched against their chests, and it takes him a whole minute to realize he’s smiling at nothing.

“Fuck,” he says to the rain, very quietly.

***

_September 31st_

“I hate you,” Asahi groans, pulling his blanket over his head. “Both of you.”

“You’re not escaping that easy!” Suga’s expression as he yanks it back down is nothing short of gleeful. “Did he or did he not sit next to you in the cafeteria today?”

“He did,” Asahi mumbles, throwing his arms over his face to hide how red it is.

“And did he or did he not share his lunch with you?”

“He did, but that’s not - it was just -”

Daichi snorts with laughter, and Suga’s grin gets even wider. “And wasn’t he flirting with you the whole damn time?”

“He wasn’t - !”

“He _absolutely_ was,” Daichi says, and Asahi shoots him a look of utter betrayal.

“Asahi has an admirer,” Suga crows. “Oikawa Tooru, heartthrob extraordinaire, is in love with -”

“He’s not in love with anyone, god,” Asahi groans. “Can you not -”

“You like him, though,” Daichi grins, enjoying his friend’s discomfiture perhaps a little more than he should be. “Don’t you?”

“Oh, you know what, Daichi?” Asahi sits up straight, his eyes going narrow, his cheeks still flushed. “Why don’t we talk about a certain alpha who’s been courting you for two months straight now, hm?”

Suga’s shout of delighted laughter echoes off the damn walls, and Daichi’s jaw drops.

“ _Courting_? What -”

“Oh hey, Sawamura -” That is a _terrifyingly_ accurate impression of Kuroo’s voice, what the fuck - “I’m on the A team but I’m still going to come over to the B team’s practice court just to help you stretch, Sawamura did you forget a pen today because I brought ten extra just for you, Sawamura I just _happened_ to notice you really like onigiri and oops, what do you know, I bought three extra _by accident_ -”

Suga is actually sobbing with laughter, hitting the bed with a weak fist as he hugs his stomach and gasps for breath. “Fuck you,” Daichi yells, lunging for Asahi with a face just as red as his, and pillows go flying across the room as they scuffle.

Suga shifts to the end of the bed so he can laugh in peace, occasionally egging them each in turn even though they’re both too busy trying to pin each other down to pay any attention to him. It takes a good ten minutes and Daichi accidentally kicking Suga in the stomach for him to finally get between them and push them apart. “Cut it out,” he shouts sternly, but he’s still grinning. “We’re going to talk about this like adults, okay?”

“You guys started it,” Asahi says in a very un-Asahi-like way, sticking his tongue out as he flops back against his pillows.

“Kuroo isn’t fucking courting me,” Daichi shoots back, folding his arms over his chest. “So let’s go back to talking about Asahi swooning over Oikawa -”

“I’m not _swooning_ over _anybody_ -”

“And they say omegas don’t like conflict,” Suga snorts. “Honestly, though, Daichi -”

“Oh, _fuck_ no, don’t say it, I swear to god, Suga -”

“ - he _is_ courting you.”

Asahi waves a hand at Suga as if to say _See?_ Daichi groans, slumping back against the wall.

“He’s _not_ ,” he says, suddenly kind of tired of the whole thing. “He’s like that with everyone, helping out or offering things or whatever. It’s not like he puts that much thought into it - and it's nowhere near close to being courting, who even courts these days?”

“I’m sure some people do,” Suga says, settling his chin on his knees. “But it doesn’t matter if absolutely no other alpha in the world does it, it matters whether Kuroo does. Why do you think it isn’t courting?”

“I just told you -”

“He helps a lot of people, sure. But not as much as you, Dai. Hasn’t he been spending, like, a lot more time around you than before?”

“I guess so, but that’s not necessarily - he might just want to be better friends or something, I don’t know. Courting would be -”

Asahi nudges him lightly when he breaks off. “Would be what?”

“It would be - more.” Daichi looks down at his lap, something small and cold settling in the middle of his chest. “He would be around me way more, and it would be clothes or - you know, specific gifts, not pens or onigiri or whatever. It would be obvious to everyone if that’s what he was doing.”

“It _is_ obvious to everyone,” Suga says, with something that’s almost exasperation. “He likes you, Daichi.”

“Don’t -” Daichi looks up and smiles a little, but he knows it’s too forced to be convincing. “Don’t give me hope, Suga.”

And the words come out too quiet, too. Asahi shifts to sit next to him, hugging Daichi to his chest with one strong, solid arm - nothing in the world is as comforting as a hug from Asahi, god - and Suga pats Daichi’s leg, a quick one-two-three that always helps settle Daichi’s heartbeat when it’s faster than it should be.

“You like him,” he says, a statement, not a question. “Like, really like him.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Daichi does, of course he does, he has for so goddamn long, but saying it lightly, like _Yeah, I don’t like coffee much_ or _You’re right, it’s cold today_ means that - that it might stay as it is, curled up and dormant and firmly tucked away in a tiny little corner of Daichi’s heart. “I figured there wasn’t much point in thinking about it, though. He’s never . . .”

“He is now,” Asahi says, his voice a low, soothing rumble that hums through Daichi’s back, through his shoulder. “We’re not just guessing, Dai. Like Suga said, everyone can see it.”

“Yep,” Suga says, like there’s no room for argument. “Forget about the courting thing, okay, that doesn’t matter - he’s spending time with you, he’s talking to you more, and I swear he gets this dopey look on his face every time you smile at him. Why don’t you just ask him out?”

“Because -” _Because I can’t see it. Because it’s not enough. Because it feels like nothing compared to how he is with friends like Bokuto or even Oikawa, compared to how much he so clearly cares about them._ “I don’t know. I guess I’m just scared.”

Asahi squeezes him tight, and Suga pats him again, his eyes going crinkly. “Yeah, I know. Just - we’re saying, the both of us, that it’s safe to take the leap when you’re ready. Okay?”

Daichi nods, his throat just a little too tight for words. “Thanks,” he manages, and Suga grins, right back to gleeful.

“Okay! _Now_ we can go back to talking about Asahi swooning over Oikawa.”

Asahi groans and Daichi laughs, settling back in to tease Asahi until he kicks them both out.

***

_October 9th_

“So basically,” Yaku says, flat and unimpressed, “you haven’t done shit.”

Kai makes only a half hearted attempt to smother his smile, and Tetsurou scowls at Yaku’s face on his screen.

“I literally just told you everything I’ve -”

“First off, the library thing doesn’t count, that was just your job. And as for the rest of it, I guess you’ve tried a bunch of times, but - christ, Kuroo, you literally went out and bought heat supplies for me in our first year - for _me_ , your sworn enemy or whatever - just because I was your teammate and you’re like, annoyingly thoughtful or considerate or whatever about shit like that. And if Sawamura is as smart as you’ve been telling us for the past year now, I guarantee you he knows that. Which means that if you’re going to keep up this dumb courting thing instead of asking him out like a normal person, you seriously need to step up your game.”

“I concur,” Kai says, smiling peacefully when Tetsurou scowls harder.

“You know, I would have appreciated a little more support from you guys -”

“You would have it if this wasn’t like something out of a poorly written YA novel,” Kai says, and Yaku snorts with laughter.

Tetsurou sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he tries to tamp down the rising flood of something that’s a little like irritation and a lot like hurt. “Thanks, guys,” he says. “Really, thanks a lot. Any other stellar advice you wanna give me?”

Yaku frowns slightly at the tone of his voice, his head tilting a little. Kai shifts his laptop so he’s closer to the webcam, rustling filtering through his mike, and folds his hands in his lap.

“Why are you so insistent about courting him, Kuroo?” he says, more kindly than before. “Are you really that scared he’ll turn you down?”

Tetsurou sighs shortly, ruffling a hand through his hair. “I was at the beginning, I guess. Since we’ve been talking more and stuff . . . he might even kind of like talking to me, I don’t know. It’s just - I don’t wanna be one of those pushy, stalkery alphas, you know? Courting means he can say no whenever he wants to, as soon as he gets uncomfortable. And I thought taking it slow enough that he can always do that was - pretty important. But you guys think it’s dumb, and so do Tooru and Kou, even though they’re still supportive, and it’s just - it’s kinda disappointing, okay?”

They’re quiet for a second, both of them still on Tetsurou’s screen. He’s just about to check if his internet connection dropped off when Kai speaks up again.

“It is important,” he says. “You’re right, Kuroo. And I’m sorry for teasing when this means so much to you.”

Yaku huffs softly, pulling a leg up so he can rest his chin on his knee. “Yeah, sorry. Not a lot of alphas think like that, so it’s good that you’re worrying about it. Just don’t let that worry hold you back too much, yeah? Don’t be afraid to go a little bigger, a little clearer with what you offer. I mean, if he can’t even tell that you’re trying to court him, there’s not much point to the whole thing, right?”

“And as an omega, he certainly hasn’t gotten this far without receiving his fair share of unwelcome attention.” Kai smiles a little, waving a hand at where Yaku probably is on his screen. “As Yakkun will attest to. So I’m pretty sure he’s more than capable of turning down a clear, respectful advance from you if he wants to.”

“ _If_ he turns you down,” Yaku says. “If he’s still hanging around you after all this nonsense, he definitely likes you, for whatever weird reason.”

It’s said lightly, without any bite to it, and Tetsurou has to smile. “Thanks, I guess. So what, you think I should work up to offering him clothes or something?”

“Clothes would be good,” Kai says. “Do you know if he nests? If his heat is coming up then you could offer it without it being too weird, since you seem to be closer now.”

“Nah, then it’s like he’s just doing what any alpha friend would do,” Yaku demurs. “It’ll make more of a statement if it’s got nothing to do with his heat at all.”

“Yes, fair point. Buying him food could be good too.”

“Yeah, that I definitely agree with.”

“Okay, then.” Tetsurou lets out a long breath, leaning back in his chair. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“While we wait with bated breath for the next installment of your love life,” Kai murmurs, clearly trying not to smile, and Yaku snorts so loudly it almost sounds like his mike shorted out.

“Assholes,” Tetsurou grumbles, but he’s grinning regardless.

***

_October 23th_

It’s a cold, crisp night, the stars washed out by streetlights but still bright enough to remind Daichi of home. His feet and legs are starting to ache from all the walking he’s done today, his sweater isn’t doing a great job of keeping him warm, he’s really hungry, and if he wasn’t fifteen minutes away from the university gates he would be sorely tempted to just sit down on the side of pavement and rest for a while. But he is, so he laces his fingers behind his head with a sigh, stretching his arms tight. The shopping bag in his hand thumps gently against his back, in time with his footsteps.

“I can take it, Sawamura,” Ushijima says next to him. He has two of his own shopping bags, all full. “You really didn’t have to carry it all this time -”

“Again, it’s fine. I’d feel bad about letting you carry them all by yourself.”

Ushijima gives him a look that’s vaguely concerned, his straight eyebrows drawing together into a slight frown. “I know, but you look . . . tired.”

That makes Daichi turn to look at him him, his mouth parting in surprise before he huffs out a quick laugh, his breath crystallizing in the air. “Is it that obvious?”

“You were quieter than usual, on the ride back. Like you had run out of energy.”

“Hm.” Daichi sighs again, dropping his arms so he can roll his head from side to side. “Yeah, that’s how it feels. I’ve been fairly busy lately, and going into the city tends to take a lot out of me. It's like a whole expedition, you know? Three transfers and one and a half hours each way.”

“Thank you very much for accompanying me regardless,” Ushijima says, bowing his head briefly. His eyes are serious when he looks up again, gazing straight at Daichi as a passing car’s headlights throw his face into sharp, lightning-quick relief. Daichi thinks, not for the first time, how handsome he is - and how his burden must be so much heavier than Daichi’s, given that he’s so much taller, so much stronger, so unexpressive and blunt and careless of his appearance, the very antithesis of the image of the perfect omega.

It must be, but if it is, he’s never once shown it. And things are changing for the better, but not they’re not changing fast enough, and it kind of pisses Daichi off that even Ushijima had felt the need to ask for a companion just to go into the city and buy stuff. Maybe it shouldn’t, maybe Daichi should be used to it by now, this world where he can be looked at like a thing to be consumed by a stranger on a train. But he isn’t, and it fucking sucks.

Ushijima is still looking at him, he realizes belatedly - with a significant amount of concern now - and he hastily pushes the train of thought aside.

“Sorry, my head’s a mess. But it’s fine, Ushijima, really.” He manages to find the energy to pat Ushijima on the shoulder, to offer him a smile. “I’m glad I could help. And hey, now I know the name of a great omega-specific athletic store in the city.”

Ushijima’s face relaxes the corner of his mouth quirking up. “That is one advantage, true. Will you let me buy you dinner? It is the least I could do in return.”

“Ah, that’s kind of you, but my dormmate ordered in for us, so I have food waiting for me. Thanks, though.”

“I see.” They walk in silence for a minute or so, and it’s only after they turn into the road that leads to the university that Ushijima says, “You said trips to the city tire you?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. It’s fun once in a while, but Suga dragged me out so many times in our first year that it’s kind of lost its charm for me. I prefer smaller towns, you know? Places more like home.”

“I see. I don’t have a preference either way, I think, but I understand why you would feel like that.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I just need quiet, and that’s harder to find here.”.

Ushijima only hums in response, and Daichi is too distracted to try to keep the conversation going. The road is lined with shops and eateries that make a sizable profit off of the university’s students, the air filled with muted chatter and the smells of food frying or roasting or boiling, and god, Daichi is so damn hungry he just wants to burst into some shop’s kitchen and devour everything in sight. But Makki bought him his favourite pizza, he can’t let that go to waste, so he grits his teeth against the sound of his growling stomach and walks just a little faster. They’re just five minutes away, only five minutes -

“Sawamura, I think someone is calling to you.”

“What?” Daichi blinks and slows, looking around. “Where?”

“Over there, look.”

He follows Ushijima’s outstretched arm to a courtyard outside a street food stall, where tiny tables have been set up for people to sit down and eat. Waving at him with a smile, sitting opposite Matsukawa, is Kuroo.

And of course Daichi’s heart jumps in his chest like a puppy begging for a treat, but god, he doesn’t want to deal with this now. He’s tired, his mood isn’t the best, and the mental gymnastics of trying to figure out whether Kuroo is teasing or flirting, whether he’s serious or kidding, whether he sees Daichi as anything other than a friend who’s fun to rile up - it’s exhausting enough normally, and right now it’s a weight he doesn’t want to get within a hundred feet of.

But he can’t pretend he didn’t see Kuroo, and Ushijima is already heading towards them, so he follows with a sigh, hoping his smile looks more natural than it feels.

“Hey, Ushijima,” Matsukawa says, nodding to them both. Their table bears the debris of a meal, empty cups and plates stacked together neatly. “Sawamura. You guys go on a shopping trip or something?”

“Quite a lot of my gear was worn out,” Ushijima replies. “Sawamura was kind enough to accompany me when I went to buy what I needed.”

“Of course he was,” Kuroo says in that low, lazy drawl of his, the corner of his mouth curling up as he looks at Daichi. “Sawamura is an absolute sweetheart, we all know that.”

That tone would normally be enough to at least get an eye roll out of Daichi, if not a retort, but all he gives Kuroo this time is a brief glare.

Mastukawa’s cough sounds suspiciously like a laugh, but he mercifully doesn’t follow the topic. “I’ve seen that logo before,” he says. “It’s an omega athletics store, right? Is it any good? My family is coming into town in a couple weeks, and my sister was thinking about buying new shoes.”

“What does your sister play?” Ushijima says, starting to look interested.

“She’s a track and field runner, so they’ll see a fair bit of wear.”

“The store has a section specifically for running gear, so I’m sure she’ll find what she needs. The line they released last month is particularly good, though if she’s a beginner I wouldn’t recommend one of those. What she could do instead is . . .”

“They’re gonna go on for a while,” Kuroo says over their conversation, propping his chin in one hand. “You wanna sit? Maybe get something to eat?”

“I’m good,” Daichi says shortly. “Makki ordered in for us.”

“Knowing Makki, he probably ate half your food already,” Kuroo grins, raising a teasing eyebrow.

“He wouldn’t.”

“Scared of what you’d do to him if he did, hm?”

“No. He’s just a good guy. He’s probably waiting for me to get back so we can eat together, actually.”

“Ah, that’s definitely giving him too much credit.”

Daichi just shrugs, crossing his arms and looking away to the strings of cheerfully glowing lanterns crisscrossing the courtyard.

“You know,” Kuroo says after a moment, quieter than before, “I’m getting the feeling you’re kinda pissed off at me.”

“I’m not.”

“Really?”

Daichi sighs, looking back at him. Kuroo's eyes are searching, his head tilted questioningly. “I’m not,” he says. “Just - long day.”

“So you’re pissed off at everything, not me specifically.”

Daichi chuckles despite himself, the tight set of his shoulders relaxing a little. “I guess, yeah.”

“Cool.” Kuroo gives him a small, unexpectedly sweet smile. “That’s a nice change from our normal, at least.”

Daichi makes a non-committal sound, glancing away as his heart jumps painfully again. They’re quiet for a bare twenty seconds before Daichi’s fingers curl tight into the hems of his sleeves and he thinks, _Okay, fuck this._

“Ushijima, hey -” He taps Ushijima’s arm lightly. “Sorry to interrupt, but I kind of have to get back to my room. I’ll keep your stuff there, if you’re okay with coming by to pick it up later.”

“Of course. I can take it from you now, Sawamura.” Ushijima reaches out for the bag, bowing his head briefly. “Thank you again for your help.”

“It was no problem, really. I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

“Yep, see ya,” Matsukawa says, waving goodbye.

“Good night, Sawamura.”

“Night, Ushijima.”

Daichi gives Kuroo a nod and turns to leave, but he doesn’t make it five steps before he realizes Kuroo stood up to follow him.

“You mind if I walk back with you?” he says, falling into step with Daichi.

Daichi shoves his cold hands in his pockets, holding back a groan. “If I say yes,” he mutters, “will you go back and leave me alone?”

“Nah,” Kuroo chuckles. “I’ll keep walking but just, like, five feet away from you.”

“Great. Whatever, yeah, you can walk back with me.”

“Thanks.”

Daichi is facing straight ahead, but he knows Kuroo is looking at him, knows he’s trying to figure out what to say that might help. All he wants to do is get away from him, away from his stupid faded cologne and the stupidly cute way he’d said _That’s a nice change from our normal_ and the way he’s walking close enough that Daichi can almost feel the heat from his arm. He doesn’t need this, doesn’t want this, he just wants to go back to his room and curl up under a blanket and eat his pizza, why is Kuroo so -

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kuroo’s voice is gentle, almost a little hesitant. “Why your day was bad?”

\- so _considerate_ , why does he _care_ so much, why is Daichi getting so upset right now, fuck -

“Not really,” he says, forcing his voice to stay steady. “It’s nothing in particular, I’m just tired and hungry. Like I said, long day.”

Kuroo hums quietly. “I get that,” he says after a moment or two. “I sure hope what Makki ordered was pizza, that’s like a magic cure for me when I’m pissed off.”

“It is, actually,” Daichi says, startled into a laugh. “Don’t tell the team, though, or I’ll never be able to lecture Noya about not eating junk food again.”

“My lips are sealed,” Kuroo says, smiling at him. “I hope he got double cheese, too.”

“I’m definitely not telling you that,” Daichi says, glancing at him before looking away to smile reluctantly at his shoes. “My reputation would never survive it.”

“Nah, your reputation would survive way worse than that - if anyone even believed me in the first place.”

“That’s actually reassuring, thank you.” Daichi hugs his shoulders, curling in on himself against the chill.

“Hey.” Kuroo nudges him, and when Daichi looks up he’s already shrugging off his jacket. “Take this, you look cold.”

Daichi’s lightening mood evaporates like alcohol in the desert. “What - I can’t - Kuroo, we’re literally two minutes away from -”

“I know, but still.” Kuroo holds it out to him. “Take it.”

“I really don’t need -” Daichi starts, and that’s as far as he gets before he stops walking, the words dying in his mouth, Kuroo’s face is more open than he’s ever seen it, his gaze clear and patient as he waits for Daichi to take the jacket. He’s wearing three scent patches even though it’s late at night and the crowds are thin, because he’s just a fucking good guy like that, and Daichi -

\- takes a step back, his heart aching so badly in his chest that it hurts to breathe, and says, “What are you doing, Kuroo?”

Kuroo’s head tilts, a hint of the frown creeping back. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you - you’ve been - I don’t know, weirdly nice to me for a while now, what are you trying to do? What are you trying to prove?”

Something flickers in Kuroo’s eyes, too fast for Daichi to decipher, before he smiles like he always does, equal parts cocky and charming. “I’m always this nice, Sawamura, come on.”

“Are you -” _Really courting me? Were they right? Stop playing with me, please just tell me they were right -_

But the words catch tight in his throat, and Kuroo says, “It’s just a jacket, dude, it’s not going to bite.” He’s still holding it out, still waiting. “Might as well keep warm till you reach your room. I swear I don’t have any snakes in the pockets or anything.”

He says it so lightly, and Daichi knows he’s trying to be reassuring or whatever, and he knows the only reason _It’s just a jacket_ hits him like a punch to gut is that he’s low on energy and his mood sucks and he’s entirely in the wrong frame of mind for this conversation -

\- but god, that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Keep it,” he manages to say. “You get cold much faster than I do, anyway. See you, Kuroo.”

“Hey - Sawamura, wait!”

But Daichi is already heading away from him, jogging and then running, sprinting to the university gates with his jaw clenched tight to keep the ache in his chest locked up, to stop it from turning into tears. There’s nothing to really be upset about, he knew that Kuroo didn’t like him like that, he knew it. Letting himself hope was his own mistake.

. . . That doesn’t make it any easier, either.

***

_October 27th_

Tetsurou sets his empty soda can down next to him on the bench, pulling a knee up and resting his forehead on it with a sigh. He doesn’t have classes after lunch on Tuesday, so he could just head back to his room and nap until volleyball practice in the evening. He always falls asleep fast on a full stomach, anyway, and he’s done all his readings for tomorrow, so there’s no work to worry about.

But it’s a nice day, half-bare trees reaching up to a sky that’s clear and winter-bright, the weak sunlight just enough to balance out the chill of the light breeze that’s setting red and gold leaves rustling across the cobblestones. He might as well enjoy the afternoon here, on this quiet side path, instead of sleeping it away.

Even if he knows he’s just going to spend it thinking about Sawamura.

He sighs again, putting his earphones in his ears and selecting his peppiest playlist to try and distract himself, but it doesn’t really help. He keeps remembering Friday night, neon lights from food carts flickering in Sawamura’s eyes as he’d said _What are you trying to prove?_ And there had been something both challenging and almost - almost desperate in his voice, in the way he’d pinned Tetsurou with his gaze, and Tetsurou hadn’t been able to do anything except play it off like it was nothing. How was he supposed to say _I’m trying to prove that I care about you, that I want you, that I like you so much I can’t think straight_ when Sawamura was looking at him like that? Like he was expecting to hear - well, fuck knows what he was expecting to hear, but in that moment he’d looked like a man waiting to be told of his own execution.

So Tetsurou had played it off because the only thought in his head had been to get that look off his face, to make him feel comfortable, to try to reassure him - but it had obviously been the wrong thing to do, because Sawamura’s expression had just kind of crumpled before he’d turned and fairly fled. Tetsurou had spent the weekend in quiet misery, thinking about the moment over and over again in his head to try to figure out what he’d done wrong, what he should have done instead, but it hadn’t done anything except make him feel even shittier. Sawamura himself hadn’t helped - he’d been normal during team practice on Saturday, like nothing had happened, but he’d kept their conversations polite and very brief. It was like the easier comfort they’d built over the past few months had just - vanished.

Tetsurou hadn’t talked to anyone about it, even when Koutarou had asked if something was up. All his friends have heard enough about the whole thing by now, and there’s only two things to do, anyway - try offering clothing again and hope it won’t make things worse, or just give up on the whole damn thing, tell Sawamura everything, and hope it won’t all go to shit.

And neither option is particularly appealing.

The playlist is halfway through, he realises. _[Blue and Summer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXmfTW46Vj0) _is playing -

‘ _Summer started, and I fell in love / I’m tired of waiting -’_

\- and Tetsurou growls quietly to himself, looking up at the sky. It’s just a song, he’s not going to get emotional about this -

_‘The more serious it is, the more it’ll hurt / It’s not peaceful - this is my love -’_

“Oh, come on,” he mutters, picking up the empty soda can and aiming at the row of trash bins across the path. He throws, and it arcs through the air before landing inside the bin with a loud clatter.

_‘I miss you / After all, I miss you -’_

He pulls out his earphones with a groan, rubbing his forehead. God, his life would be so much simpler without all of this, if Sawamura with his deep laugh and kind smile and expressive eyes had stayed in Miyagi and they’d never known each other, never met each other.

The song is still playing, tinny and distorted, but loud enough that Tetsurou can tell which part it is.

_‘Destiny is shifting, and the[red string](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_thread_of_fate) makes a sound -’_

It gets drowned out, though, by the sound of approaching footsteps. Tetsurou glances at the main avenue, startled, and sees - Sawamura? Yeah, that’s his jacket, and his red and black backpack. He has his arms folded tightly over his chest, and he’s walking fast, tension in every line of his body.

The avenue is at right angles to the path Tetsurou is on, so he only catches a quick glimpse before Sawamura is already out of sight. He looked upset - or maybe sick? He’s heading towards the dorms when Tetsurou knows he has class right after lunch, and Tetsurou can count on one hand the number of times Sawamura has skipped class since first year.

Well, it’s really not Tetsurou’s business, and the last time he tried to help when he thought Sawamura was feeling shitty went pretty badly wrong. So he reaches for the earphones again, about to change the song to something not quite so brutally specific to how he’s feeling right now, when he catches sight of something colourful lying on the main avenue.

Tetsurou cranes his neck, eyes narrowing as he tries to figure out what it is. The shine of hard plastic, dark green, rectangular - a card?

 _Oh_ \- He’s getting to his feet before he even realises it, shouldering his backpack. _That’s Sawamura’s ID pass!_

And without his pass to prove he’s an omega, they won’t let him go up to his room. Tetsurou hurries to go pick it up, turning to shout after Sawamura, but he’s a small figure at the far, distant end of the avenue. “Shit,” Tetsurou mutters under his breath, and starts after him.

His stride is longer than Sawamura’s, obviously, but Sawamura is walking _really_ fast, and the dorms aren’t too far away. Tetsurou only manages to close about half the distance before Sawamura reaches the sliding glass doors of Omega Dorm 1.

He groans, switching from a jog to a run. The awkwardness of giving him the pass after basically having chased after him is definitely going to be heightened by having other people around to witness it. He can’t not give it back, though, after all of this, so he heads inside too.

The common room is dead quiet, empty apart from three or four people at a study table. Most people are probably either at class or napping - which is lucky, because Tetsurou knows and is known by a fair portion of the student population. Sawamura is already at the foot of the stairs all the way across the room, the stairs that lead up to the dorm rooms -

Tetsurou breaks back into a jog, so preoccupied with reaching him in time that he’s halfway across the room before he registers that Sawamura is heading up the stairs, that the guard has somehow let him go up without the pass.

And, stupidly, the first thing he does when he realizes this is call out to him.

“Sawa -!”

But he’s already gone, and Tetsurou slows to a stop, still clutching the pass and feeling like a complete idiot as he looks at the stairs blankly.

The security guard raises a curious eyebrow at him, pausing in the process of putting one of her earphones back in. “Did you need Sawamura-kun for something, kid?”

“I just -” Tetsurou waves the pass in a half-hearted attempt at explanation, panting too much to string a proper sentence together. “He left - and I wanted to - give back -”

The guard’s gaze flicks between the pass and his face before she smiles. “Sure, go on up. He’s in 2A.”

“What? Oh - I’m - I don’t think -”

“It’s fine, seems like whatever he left behind was pretty important. Is it his notes for that test? He was complaining about it to me just the other day, poor kid.” The guard’s smile is becoming more and more motherly by the minute. “Are you in Dorm 2? I haven’t seen you go upstairs here before.”

Tetsurou stares at her, his mouth half-open with uncertainty. Okay, she thinks the pass is his and he’s an omega, so - should he tell her that she’s got it wrong, that he's actually an alpha? Leave Sawamura’s pass with her and tell her to give it to him? God, no, he can just picture the way her smile will snap into an embarrassed frown, the way her tone will turn to curtness as she tells him to leave. She’s not supposed to let students up without looking at their passes first anyway, no matter how well she knows them, and overall it’ll be much less awkward for everyone if he just -

“Yeah, I’m in Dorm 2,” he says, flashing her his brightest smile as he starts past her. “I know him from class, though. Thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem, sweetie.”

He takes the stairs two at a time, his own blue pass burning a guilty hole in his back pocket. This whole ridiculous thing is rattling him more than it should be, from chasing after Sawamura to _sneaking into his_ _dorm_ \- granted that every batch of students comes up with new and innovative ways to beat the segregation system, but it’s an unspoken rule that alphas never sneak in anywhere, only omegas and betas - and the uncomfortable feeling that he’s starting to toe the line between concern and creepiness is getting stronger by the second. He’s just going to shove the pass under Sawamura’s door, get the hell out, and pretend it all just never happened.

Which is a great plan until, right when he’s bending to slide the pass under the door marked 2A -

\- it swings open.

“What the -”

“Fuck -” Tetsurou jumps back to avoid getting kicked in the face, his heart startled into his throat. _Fuck, of course Sawamura would open the damn door right fucking now, the universe just hates me, doesn’t it -_

 _“Kuroo?”_ Sawamura is looking at him like he might be a hallucination. “What are you - _how_ did you -”

“Okay, okay, I know this looks - really weird, but I can explain, okay?” Tetsurou holds up both hands, trying to keep calm, trying to sound convincing. “I just - I saw you drop your pass and I wanted to give it back, but you were walking so damn fast you wouldn’t have heard me if I’d called out to you, so I - I ran after you all the way till the dorm, and the guard lady downstairs thought the pass was mine, and I thought it would be easier to just leave it under your door and go, I swear that’s all I was going to do, I know this is weird and I’m so sorry -”

He breaks off, Sawamura’s appearance finally registering. His cheeks are flushed like he’s just played three straight sets or something, his arms are folded tight over his stomach with an empty water bottle in one hand, his mouth is a flat line of discomfort, his eyes are just a little unfocused below the utterly perplexed frown he’s giving Kuroo, and - shit, he’s wearing _five_ scent patches, but Tetsurou can still smell his true scent underneath, the clean, fresh smell of freshly cut grass baking in the sun. It’s stronger than he’s ever smelt before, and there’s something else there too, something like - like ozone, like the air before it’s going to rain -

And Tetsurou, because he’s a goddamn fucking idiot who _doesn’t know when the fuck to keep his mouth shut_ , blurts out, “Sawamura, are you - going into heat?”

***

_30 seconds earlier_

_This has to be a joke_ , Daichi thinks faintly, as he and Kuroo stare at each other in shock. _He can’t really be here._

“ _Kuroo_? What are you - _how_ did you -”

“Okay, okay, I know this looks - really weird, but I can explain, okay?” _That’s - is he holding my -?_ “I just - I saw you drop your pass, and I -”

This is probably an explanation Daichi should listen to, if the desperation which Kuroo is gesturing with is anything to go by. But the cramps are starting to really hurt, and the two extra patches he’d hastily borrowed from Suga before hightailing it out of class are that brand that makes his skin itch, and his thoughts are going fuzzy in the irritating way they always do in the first few hours of his heat - none of which is helped by how annoyed at himself he is for not tracking his cycle properly, or by how upset he is at having had to skip an important class he was actually looking forward to, or by the painful way his gut had twisted when he’d opened his door and Kuroo’s golden eyes had looked up and met his.

So he’s basically a walking mess whose heat is severely impairing whatever cognitive ability he has, and if only Kuroo would stop talking and go away he could go fill his water bottle in peace, down a couple of suppressants, and fall asleep with a nice heating pad on his stomach to help with the cramps -

Kuroo stops talking abruptly, and Daichi blinks.

_Why is he staring at me like that?_

“Sawamura, are you - going into heat?”

Daichi stares at him for a full two seconds, his face _burning_ , before he steps back and tries to slam the door. Tries, because Kuroo jams his hand in the gap to stop it from closing.

“Ow, fuck - ! Sawamura, I’m so, so sorry -” The door swings back open, and if Kuroo had looked desperate before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, I shouldn’t have said that, I was just worried -”

“ _Leave_ ,” Daichi hisses, sick, sick humiliation crawling into the pit of his stomach. _God, the universe just fucking hates me, doesn’t it?_ “Leave, and don’t ever - don’t fucking - I don’t want to see you, don’t want to talk to you, just _leave_ , Kuroo, get the fuck _out!_ ”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, quiet and unhappy, his head hanging low. “I’m - I’m really sorry, Sawamura. Um - here -”

He raises the hand holding Daichi’s pass, and Daichi steps forward to snatch it from him. “Thank you,” he bites out, “ _so_ much. Now please -”

Oh.

Oh, god.

He can smell Kuroo’s real scent.

Kuroo has on three patches, as always, but Daichi’s heat always makes him much more sensitive to scents than he normally is, and he can smell the light, almost sweet smell of old books stored in mahogany chests, a smell that always takes him back Sunday evenings curled up by the window in his grandmother’s musty attic library -

Kuroo looks up. “Sawamura?”

\- comfort and safety and excited curiosity as he turned the pages with care, reading stories from decades ago, and Kuroo has always, always meant comfort to Daichi, even when he was irritating the hell out of him -

“Sawamura?” His voice is sharper now, his eyes scanning Daichi’s face as he sways a little. “Are you okay?”

\- the hot, prickling buzz dancing over his skin is slowing, it’s calming the longer Daichi breathes in Kuroo’s scent, and oh, the relief of it -

“Should I call someone?” Kuroo’s hand is hovering at shoulder-level, like he wants to steady Daichi but isn’t sure he should. “Maybe Azumane or Sugawara? Are you -”

\- the relief of it is so sweet that Daichi steps forward again, as close to Kuroo as he can get, curls his hand into the collar of his shirt, and puts his nose against his neck to breathe in deep.

Kuroo goes very, very still.

“Could you - take the patches off?” Daichi mumbles against his skin, barely feeling the words leave his mouth. “Just - just one?”

“Oh -” Understanding dawns in Kuroo’s voice, and he puts an uncertain hand on Daichi’s waist. “It helps? My scent?”

“Yeah,” Daichi breathes, and he knows somewhere in the back of his mind that he _really_ shouldn’t be doing this, but Kuroo’s scent is so _good_ and it’s helping so _much_ and he doesn’t want to think past that, doesn’t want to think about anything that means he needs to stop this, lose this -

He sways forward without meaning to, nuzzling closer, and Kuroo’s breath catches as he strips off a patch and crumples it in his palm. His scent gets stronger instantly, flooding Daichi’s nose, and a shiver runs through his whole body as he tries to shift even closer.

“Fuck,” Kuroo breathes, unsteadily. “Okay, Sawamura, can you - just take a couple of steps back, yeah? Let’s not stand out here?”

Daichi nods without really processing the words, keeping his nose pressed to Kuroo’s throat and his eyes shut tight as Kuroo guides him back inside his dorm room.

“Okay,” Kuroo says quietly, pushing the door shut behind him. “Okay, Sawamura, I need you to listen to me, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have suppressants with you?”

“I . . . yeah, they’re . . . in my room?”

“Okay, good. Which one is your room?”

“The - left door, your left.”

“Let’s go and get them, then.”

“Mhmm.” Daichi lets himself be walked backwards, Kuroo’s scent a comfortable haze settled in his mind, blurring out his thoughts. “Don’t think you should . . . be in my room . . . should you?”

Kuroo chuckles quietly, a low sound in the back of his throat as he reaches past Daichi to open his room door. “I shouldn't, but you’re not giving me much choice, are you?”

“Don’t care,” Daichi mumbles, almost petulantly. “I want you here. Not gonna let you go away.”

Kuroo is quiet for a second, one of his hands settling on Daichi’s hand where it’s lying against his chest. “Yeah, I can tell,” is all he finally says. “Hey, careful -”

He catches Daichi as he stumbles, his hip knocking into something hard. “Careful,” he murmurs, tugging him to the side, guiding him more carefully. “The bed’s right behind you, I’m gonna sit you down, okay?”

Daichi lets him, but when Kuroo starts to straighten up he clutches his collar tighter, a whine half caught in his throat. “Don’t,” he says, panic suddenly flaring to life in his chest. “Don’t, don’t leave -”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Kuroo murmurs, carefully pulling his hands away, leaning back just enough so he can look Daichi in the eye. “I’m not leaving, okay? I’m just going to get the suppressants for you.”

Daichi looks up at him helplessly, not wanting him to go get anything, wanting him to stay and hug him like he was doing before - that was so nice, why doesn’t he want to do that?

Kuroo smiles at him a little ruefully, squeezing his hands before he drops them. “I’m not going anywhere, Sawamura. Just give me a second, yeah?”

“But . . .”

“Okay, how about -” Kuroo pulls off his jacket in two fluid motions, swinging it around to settle on Daichi’s shoulders. “Does that help?”

Daichi reluctantly clutches the jacket, breathing in the scent from the collar. “It helps,” he says to the floor.

“Good. You wanna tell me where the suppressants are?”

“They’re -” Daichi gestures to the shelf on the opposite wall, looking up to watch Kuroo step across the room to get them. “But I don’t have water to take them with.”

“I’ll go get some,” Kuroo says, coming back to drop the small box of pills on the bed and taking the empty water bottle from him. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He’s out of the room before Daichi can do more than open his mouth to protest, and Daichi is left alone in the suddenly dead quiet room. Kuroo’s jacket does have enough of his scent to get through Daichi’s own, but it’s nothing like as strong as it was before, when Daichi was so close to him, close enough to feel his heartbeat -

_What are you **doing**? You’re embarrassing yourself! Get it together!_

Daichi pulls the jacket tighter around himself against the small, frantic voice, trying to breathe slow and deep, trying to make the scent last.

_Your heat isn’t an excuse! You **asked** him to **take off his scent patches**! How desperate can you get?_

Daichi’s fingers grip the open jacket tight, the track of the zipper biting into his skin, as a chill ripples up his spine. Shit, he really did that, didn’t he?

_Saying you wouldn’t let him go, **begging** him not to leave - what is he going to think of you?_

The voice is getting louder, more terrified, more distraught. “It just helps,” Daichi whispers, trying to silence it. “He doesn’t - doesn’t mind -”

_How do you know?!_

The haze is slowly dispersing, sliced through by the words echoing in his head like a drug being neutralized. Daichi starts to notice how dark the room is with the curtains closed, starts to notice that books from his desk are lying on the floor - fuck, did he knock them off? He was so out of it, he didn’t even - didn’t even realize -

_You didn’t even know what you were doing, how the fuck do you know what he’s thinking about this whole shitshow? You need to get it together!_

Daichi presses a hand to his mouth, sure for a split second he’s going to be sick. Of course Kuroo is being nice to him, he wouldn’t do anything else while Daichi was this - this mess, but he must be embarrassed, even disgusted, he must hate being stuck in this situation, god -

Footsteps sound in the hall outside, and Kuroo comes back into the room, closing the door behind him. “Here,” he says, coming over to give the bottle to Daichi.

“Thank you,” Daichi says, keeping his eyes on the bed as he reaches for the suppressant pills. If he looks at him, he knows he’s actually going to cry, and that would really be the perfect way to top this whole humiliating episode.

“Hey - Sawamura, aren’t you not supposed to take those pills when you’re wearing scent patches? Doesn’t it react or something?”

Daichi’s hand flies to his neck. Shit, he completely forgot about the goddamn patches.

“Yeah,” he mutters, ripping them off as fast as he can and tossing them into the bin under his desk. “Thanks for catching that.”

“Yeah, no -” Kuroo’s hands are in his pockets, and he’s tapping one thumb on his leg restlessly. “Um, how long do you have to wait between taking the patches off and taking the pills?”

“Twelve minutes.” Daichi takes a breath that only shakes slightly, forcing his hands back to his lap. Kuroo’s scent is curling through the room again, mixing with his own, and he wants nothing more than to grab Kuroo and pull him close again, but - no. No. He can’t, he _won’t_.

“Okay, then.” There’s a quiet beeping sound, Kuroo’s fingers deftly setting a timer on his watch. “So we wait for twelve minutes.”

Daichi’s head snaps up to look at him. “You don’t have to stay, Kuroo.”

Kuroo’s brows draw together, just a little. “I’d - I’d like to stay until you take them. If that’s okay.”

_\- he thinks you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself, how pathetic is that, you must have looked so -_

“Fine. Fine, just -” Daichi makes a sharp, aborted gesture at the other end of the bed before curling his hands back into the fabric of the jacket, hating how they’re shaking. “Sit over there, please.”

Kuroo’s expression shifts, going tight with - shock? Hurt? But it’s gone before Daichi can really see it, and Kuroo turns on his heel, going to sit at the end of the bed without another word. Daichi looks away from him, staring blindly at the wall.

It’s only two minutes before Kuroo says, “Sawamura, I thought you - I thought I was helping, but if I’m not, if - if you’re uncomfortable with me being around, I can wait in the hall. Or I can leave, if you really don’t want -”

Daichi laughs, a dry sound that scrapes the sides of his throat on the way out. “Chivalrous,” he says, and then winces at how bitter it sounded. Kuroo is just being considerate, just trying to make sure he feels safe.

“Sorry,” he says, more quietly. “No, I don’t mind you being here. But - thank you for asking.”

“Okay,” Kuroo says, just as quietly. Another minute passes - Daichi is counting the seconds - until he says, “And I’m - sorry about before. When I asked straight out about - you know. That was really rude. I’m so sorry.”

Daichi shrugs with one shoulder, still staring at the wall. “It’s fine. Forget about it.”

“It’s not fine, I shouldn't have -”

“Drop it, Kuroo.” It comes out as a snap, too loud in the dim room.

Kuroo’s scent sours, just a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, and falls silent.

Daichi closes his eyes, and counts. He counts off one minute, two minutes, three, which means there’s still five and a half left, and every second settles on his skin like a physical weight, lets that unbearable buzzing from before come crawling back. Whatever scent was on the jacket has been washed out by Daichi’s own - god, he’ll have to deodorize it really thoroughly before he gives it back - and the urge to get closer to Kuroo, just to soothe away the edge of the pain, is building stronger and stronger. It would be so easy to just lean over and breathe in -

_No. **No.** Keep it together._

It would almost be laughable, this whole situation, if it wasn’t so damn sad. An alpha and omega sitting alone in a room, the omega in heat, his scent fucking everywhere. The alpha’s scent would do more for the omega’s heat pains than any suppressant on the planet, but the omega can’t move, can’t use it. The alpha even gave the omega his jacket like they’re - they’re boyfriends or something, but of course they’re not.

Of course they’re not.

Four minutes left, the silence heavy, uncomfortable. Daichi’s shoulders are shaking too, now, and he pulls the jacket tighter around himself to hide it, fiercely swallowing the tears that are threatening to rise again.

If Kuroo wasn’t such a damn good person, he’d have pushed Daichi away the second he pressed his face in his neck.

 _So comforted by his scent,_ another voice whispers, this one tinged with bitterness, _like you’ve been married for years or something - how much more obvious could you have been?_

“ . . . Kuroo.”

“Yes?”

“I’m - I’m sorry, too.”

“You’re - for what?”

“For being so - for acting like -” Daichi takes a long breath, lets it out slowly. He will _not_ cry. “I usually prepare for my - heats - in advance. I was careless this time. and it hit me pretty hard, because I was annoyed at myself for being so stupid in the first place and embarassed about running out of class in front of everyone, so my head was in a weird place, and I - didn’t mean to - to do what I did. With you.”

He feels the bed shift, like Kuroo might be reaching out to him or something. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says softly.

Daichi shakes his head, turning further away from him. “I shouldn’t have. Just because your scent helped, it doesn’t mean I should have - lost control like that. I’m really sorry -”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to -”

But Daichi pushes on - if this day is going to be the worst one of his life, he might as well twist the knife in as deep as it can go, might as well just say it -

“ - because it’s something that your - that your boyfriend or girlfriend does with you, using your scent to calm down. And - I wasn’t thinking straight then, but Suga and Asahi kept telling me that you were, uh - courting me or something, they thought you liked me, and they said it so many times I guess it kind of stuck in the back of my head? I mean, I know it’s not true, of course I know that, but just -” Shit, his voice is starting to shake, shit, shit - “In that moment, I was just feeling terrible and it - really helped - and - but I shouldn’t have -”

The bed shifts again, more than before - Kuroo’s standing up, he’s walking towards Daichi.

“Sawamura -”

Daichi ducks his head, shoulders tight. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, Kuroo, I didn’t mean to -”

Kuroo is crouching in front of him, he can see it from the corner of his eye. “Sawamura,” he says again, still so soft. “Look at me, please?”

It’s like pulling his own teeth out, the effort of facing him, but Daichi manages it. He's ready to see resigned forgiveness in a forced smile, ready to hear _it's fine, we're still friends, we can just forget about it_ , ready for the knife to sink in to the hilt so his tired heart can just bleed out already.

But Kuroo is smiling his real smile at him, full and bright and joyful. “Hey,” he says, reaching out to touch Daichi’s hand. Daichi jerks away -

_What - ? What is he doing?_

\- but Kuroo reaches out again, takes both Daichi’s hands firmly, pulls him to the edge of the bed, pulls him to lean down so there're only inches between them.

“Guess what, Sawamura?”

Daichi’s heart is pounding like a jackhammer, his hands trembling in Kuroo’s, acutely aware of how strong his scent must be with Kuroo this close as he stammers, “What?”

“They were right.” Kuroo lifts one of Daichi’s hands to his mouth and kisses it, infinitely gently, smiling up at Daichi. “Suga and Asahi, they were right. I was courting you, and I like you more than I could tell you in a hundred years.”

Daichi’s mouth parts in disbelief, and he can’t do anything but stare down at Kuroo, like he’s waiting for the punchline. “Come here,” Kuroo laughs, and tugs Daichi down so he can hug him. Daichi wraps his arms tight around his shoulders, still not quite able to believe this is happening.

“You - really?” he whispers. “Really?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Kuroo says firmly, pressing a kiss right above his ear.

And that’s kind of - all it takes. Daichi buries his choked sob in his shirt, clutching him tight, and Kuroo holds him just as tightly, stroking his back with one soothing hand.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs - god, that’s going to haunt Daichi’s dreams, Kuroo saying _sweetheart_ in that deep, loving voice - and he kisses Daichi’s hair again. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Daichi gasps into his shoulder. “Stupid - don’t know - why I’m - crying -”

“Shhh, it’s okay. You can go ahead and cry, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“I didn’t think you - you’d ever - I’ve liked you for _so long_ , Kuroo -”

His voice breaks, and Kuroo's arms tighten around him, one hand reaching up to gently card through his hair. “Fuck, I should have just told you. I’m so sorry, I just -I didn’t think you’d like me back either.”

Daichi pulls back to look at him with a sniff. “You’re a goddamn idiot,” he says, wiping his eyes.

Kuroo laughs again, reaching up to peck his cheek, and he's about to say something when his watch beeps loudly.

“I could say the same about you,” he says, reaching for the box of suppressants, “but we can argue about who the bigger idiot is after you take these.”

That gets a weak chuckle out of Daichi, and he downs the pills quickly. Kuroo stays touching him, warm hands on his knees, thumbs stroking back and forth as he watches Daichi take a long drink of water.

“How long do they take to kick in completely?” he asks, when Daichi sets the water and box aside.

“About twenty minutes, usually.”

“Do you want me to stay till then? I totally get it if you just want to go to sleep now, you know, we can talk after volleyball practice or -”

“Are you kidding me?” Daichi cups his cheeks with both hands and leans down to rest their foreheads together, drinking in his scent thankfully. “You’re not leaving until I say you can.”

Kuroo makes a sound that’s half startled and half amused, and Daichi feels his cheeks grow warm under his palms. “If - if you say so, I guess -”

“I absolutely do.” Daichi kisses the tip of his nose. “Come up here, what are you still doing on the floor?”

Kuroo gets up with a laugh, crawling into bed next to Daichi. It takes a moment of awkward maneuvering before they settle with Kuroo leaning back against the headboard, all of Daichi’s pillows piled up behind him, and Daichi lying between his legs, on his side and curled into Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo’s right arm is holding his shoulders, and his left hand is tracing light circles on Daichi’s hip.

“So,” he says.

“So,” Daichi says, wiping the last of the tear stains away before tilting his face up to look at him. “Courting?”

Kuroo actually blushes, his nose wrinkling adorably. “Don’t tease me.”

“I won’t,” Daichi smiles, “but why?”

Kuroo hugs him a little tighter, bending to hide his face in Daichi’s hair. “For a lot of reasons that made sense at the time,” he mumbles. “I thought I just annoyed you, that you didn’t really like me much, so I was - uh, too much of a coward to ask you straight out. So I thought if I took it slow . . .”

“Kuroo, oh -” Daichi reaches up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin. “What did I ever do to make you think I disliked you?”

“Apart from the fact that our primary form of interaction was pissing each other off?”

Daichi laughs, tilting his head obligingly so Kuroo can nuzzle behind his ear. “Okay, fair, but -”

“And we didn’t use to talk that much outside of class or practice, until I started the whole courting thing. I mean, I never thought you actually really hated me or anything, I just -” Kuroo huffs quietly against Daichi’s skin. “I was scared, basically.”

Daichi hums, turning to kiss his chin lightly. “That was kind of my fault,” he murmurs. “I’ve liked you for a really long time, and I always thought there was no point in hoping, so I tried not to hang out with you more than I could help. I kind of - figured it would be easier that way.”

“Really? Wait, for how long?”

“Since, uh. Our first year.”

Kuroo shifts back a little, looking at him with widening eyes. “First -? Two years? Two fucking years?”

“Just about,” Daichi says, giving him a small, embarrassed smile. “Yeah.”

“Okay, the day someone invents a time machine is the day I go back and find eighteen year old Tetsurou to smack the shit out of him until he grows some goddamn brains, what was _wrong_ with me? We could have been dating this whole time, oh my _god_ -”

He’s so horrified that it makes Daichi burst out laughing, loud enough that it echoes in his room.

“Don’t laugh, Sawamura,” Kuroo says, but he’s biting his lip hard in an effort not to smile. “How did you not actually punch me in the face, I can’t believe this -”

“Daichi is fine,” Daichi grins, laughter still bubbling in his chest as he looks up at Kuroo. “You can call me Daichi. And I’m not saying I didn’t want to punch you - multiple times - but I have you now, don’t I?”

Kuroo’s eyes go softer than Daichi’s ever seen them. “Yeah, you do,” he murmurs, his lips curving so beautifully that Daichi really can’t be blamed for reaching up to kiss them.

Kuroo meets him halfway without hesitation, putting a finger under his chin to guide his mouth better. Daichi twists his fingers tight in his shirt, warmth thrilling through him at the way Kuroo teases his mouth open, at the way he nips gently at his lower lip. He’s a good kisser, setting a slow, heated pace that Daichi is more than happy to follow, more than happy to arch up into -

Kuroo breaks the kiss, panting slightly. Daichi looks up at him, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I, um -” Kuroo runs a quick hand through his hair. “I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Why?” Daichi reaches up, trying to capture his mouth again. Both their scents are completely mixed, and it’s not as heady as it would be if he hadn’t taken the suppressants and Kuroo wasn’t wearing any patches, but it’s enough Daichi wants to kiss him breathless, wants to find out what sounds he could pull out of his chest, wants to -

“It just - doesn’t seem like a good idea right now, with your scent flooding the room like this.”

Daichi flinches, mortification sending heat rushing to his cheeks. “Oh,” he says uncertainly, looking away as his hand drops. “Sorry. I didn’t - I thought -”

“Oh - no no no, it’s not what you’re thinking.” Kuroo catches his wrist, squeezing it gently. “Just - your scent is driving me crazy right now, but I don’t want this to be like a - a heat thing, you know? If we’re going to do, uh - inappropriate - intimate - things, I’d rather we do them without stupid pheromones getting involved. I want it to be a deliberate choice.”

“Oh. That - yeah, that makes sense.”

“Sorry, I should have worded that better,” Kuroo says, dropping an apologetic kiss on the top of his head.

Daichi relaxes back against his chest, raising a teasing eyebrow. “Like a better phrase than ‘inappropriate things’ ?”

“Shut up,” Kuroo half groans, half laughs. “I couldn’t think of a better word in the middle of saying it.”

“Mhmm. So you’re saying you’re fine with doing ‘inappropriate things’ as long as I’m not in heat and you’re not in rut?”

“Yeah, exactly. When it’s like that -” He kisses the tip of Daichi’s nose, like Daichi had done to him earlier. “- you can do all the inappropriate things to me you want.”

“They’re going to be _extremely_ inappropriate,” Daichi grins, sliding an arm around his waist.

“I’ll look forward to it,” Kuroo grins back, shifting more comfortably to settle Daichi’s head under his chin.

They’re quiet for a while after that. Kuroo’s heartbeat is almost right under Daichi’s ear, a steady sound that matches the rise and fall of his chest. His free hand is on Daichi’s waist, his thumb rubbing small, slow circles into his shirt. His warmth and his scent are like a second hug, holding Daichi close and soothing away everything - the cramps, the discomfort, the quiet ache that’s been eating through his heart for so long. Kuroo is here, and he feels the same way about Daichi as Daichi does about him, and god, Daichi would gladly live in this moment forever if he could.

“Hey,” Kuroo murmurs, tapping his waist lightly.

“Mm?”

“You can take a nap, if you want. You must be tired.”

Daichi hadn’t even realised that his eyelids were drooping. “I don’t want to fall asleep on you,” he says, but without much conviction.

Kuroo chuckles softly, and the sound hums through Daichi’s chest. “That’s okay, I don’t mind. I think I’m pretty damn lucky, actually, to be able to hold you like this.”

Daichi tips his face up to look at him at that, smiling without meaning to. “Sap,” he says.

“Absolutely.” Kuroo kisses him, quick and sweet. “You need to be rested for practice. Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

“Yeah,” Daichi murmurs, smiling as he nestles closer and closes his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Makki walks into Daichi's room to ask if he's up for vb practice like 3 hours later and finds them both snuggling and fast asleep, and instantly yanks his phone out to take a picture 
> 
> Me: YO SUGA
> 
> Suga: what???
> 
> Me: _image.jpg_  
>  WE MADE BANK
> 
> Suga: OH FUCK YES!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Kurodai walk into practice to be met by wolf whistles from teammates with considerably lighter wallets and matching evil grins from the suddenly rich Suga and Makki  
> Daichi nearly explodes when he finds out they ran a betting pool on when he and Kuroo would get together  
> and also Kuroo gets teased for w e e k s about sneaking into the omega dorms and he goes hoarse from yelling 'WE LITERALLY JUST SLEPT IN THE SAME BED CAN YOU STO P'
> 
> and that's the epilogue kfjksdjf
> 
> thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed (I hope you liked the song too! i just chose a song I liked at random and it actually fit surprisingly well lol) And a huge huge thanks again to neko for requesting this story!!!! all feedback and constructive criticism is dearly appreciated. you can find me on Tumblr [here](https://yaelathewordsmith.tumblr.com/) and [here](https://twitter.com/writer_yaela) on Twitter for comm info or just to chat!


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